


Window Shopping

by ForestFable



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: F/F, Fem Adam is all of us, Gansey is as oblivious as always, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Genderswap, Good god I might have to write a sequel from Rowan's perspective bc I love them together ahhh, Hot damn Ronan is hot as a woman, I guess Noah must also be around but sorry bud I was too focused on the gay pining, Monmouth Manufacturing (Raven Cycle), Mutual Pining, No Lesbians Die, Rowan is a goth stud and def wears doc martens, Some random time during the Raven Cycle, Teasing, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29242686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestFable/pseuds/ForestFable
Summary: After a long shift, Eve stops by Monmouth Manufacturing to help Gansey with her Latin. As always, Rowan distracts them.
Relationships: Fem Pynch - Relationship, Ronan Lynch & Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish, pynch
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	Window Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> "Sometimes... they need to be ladies" - cowboymoonking (https://www.instagram.com/p/CBZa3ionX_i/)

Eve flexed her tired hands as she parked her bike outside Monmouth. No matter how short she kept her nails, there was always a half-moon of grime stuck under each of them. She needed a good scrub and a long nap, but a lukewarm shower and one of Gansey’s energy drinks would have to suffice.

The door was unlocked, as always. After taking her work boots off at the door, Eve made her way up to the second floor where the rest of the gang lived. Gansey heard her coming and stuck her head out of the door to her room.

“Good God, Eve, what kind of back-woods knife fight did you get into?”

“Almost all of it’s from one souped-up Mitsubishi. Idiot tried to take it off-road and busted up the undercarriage. Hence the mud. And blood.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the star student of this group, but now look at you: fifteen minutes late to our study session and covered in grease. What do you have to say for yourself, Parrish?”

Eve was too tired to even roll her eyes at Gansey’s cajoling.

“Sorry – shift ran late and I didn’t have time to stop home. I’ll just take a quick shower and then we can get started on Latin, alright?”

Eve dropped her backpack at the top of the stairs and made her way toward the shower. She fished a towel out of the closet on the way, catching a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror.

She really _did_ look like she’d been in some sort of muddy fight. She reached up gingerly to touch a patch of her short hair where it was dark and matted down. Her fingers came away black and oily. Just grease, not blood. But it wouldn’t have been a surprise either way.

“Damn, Parrish, Gansey wasn’t kidding. You’re a mess.”

Eve spotted Rowan passing behind her in the mirror and nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Woah there, didn’t mean to spook you.” Rowan said, raising her hands and backing away slowly, a smirk cracking across her sharp features. “Hang on, I’ll get you some clothes.”

Rowan had crossed the room back to her door before Eve could think of a reason to protest. Mouth still open, trying to find the words, Eve glanced back at her reflection and focused on her clothes this time. There was no way Gansey would let her into her room in this.

In a second, Rowan was back, holding a roughly folded bundle of clothes. She stood in front of Eve and looked her up and down. As Rowan appraised her, Eve found herself staring back. Her eyes glanced from Rowan’s freshly buzzed hair to the black ink creeping over her shoulder and up her neck. In the half second it took her eyes to reach Rowan’s exposed arms—muscular, marble-white, and covered in a crisscross of scars—Eve could already feel a blush rising on her cheeks. Eve quickly looked away, snapping a bit as she asked: “You done?”

Rowan took one last mental measurement and then nodded to herself. “These should fit you ok. We’re roughly the same size, actually. Didn’t realize you were this tall.”

Rowan shoved a black t-shirt and jeans into Eve’s arms. As she strode back to her room—each footfall booming with the weight of her platform boots—she said over her shoulder nonchalantly, “I assume you can handle the underwear part yourself.” The door slammed behind her.

Eve shouted a strained “Thanks!” in Rowan’s direction and then made her way to the shower.

After ten minutes of scrubbing, Eve was pretty sure she had gotten the worst of the grease and blood off of her. It might take something stronger to get it fully out of her hair, but it was good enough for now.

The scalding water had cleared her head enough to momentarily forget about the pile of Rowan’s clothes waiting for her on the stool in the bathroom. As she pulled the black Metallica t-shirt—sleeves roughly cut off, dotted with wear-worn holes, in true Rowan fashion—over her head, Eve took a deep breath in. The scent was indescribable but unmistakable. Rowan must have worn this recently.

Eve pulled on the pair of straight-leg jeans, rolling them up a bit at the bottom to account for her lack of platform boots. She had seen Rowan in these clothes hundreds of times in the past few years. She was roughly the same build as Rowan and the clothes fit her well, but looking in the mirror, she felt like a kid playing dress up. Rowan was acid rain and lightning cracking across the sky. She had piercings and tattoos and was every bit as menacing as she looked. Eve’s dirty blond pixie cut and tan, freckled skin were all too soft and simple and _ordinary_ for these clothes.

“Eve, hurry up already! I’m on a tight schedule here!” Gansey yelled from the other room. Eve rolled her eyes. “Coming!”

Eve left her work clothes in a heap in the bathroom and made her way to Gansey’s room, grabbing her backpack along the way. Gansey’s eyes flicked up from her book as Eve entered the room. Gansey raised an eyebrow.

“Are you cosplaying as the fourth Lynch sister?”

“My clothes were filthy. Rowan gave me some of hers.” Eve put her bag down on the floor next to where Gansey was sitting and began to assemble her study materials.

“Ah, there you are, Lynch. Care to join us?” Gansey asked.

Eve was surprised to see Rowan standing in the doorway behind her.

“Nah, I’m just sitting in as the resident Latin expert. I’ll be over here if you losers get stuck.” Rowan replied as she crossed the room and flopped onto Gansey’s bed. Gansey was so used to this that she didn’t even glance back at Rowan behind her. Rowan settled onto her back, put her headphones in, crossed her arms under her head, and closed her eyes.

Eve stared.

_Dammit, how am I supposed to concentrate?_

Eve was sitting across from Gansey and facing Rowan. Gansey began going over the study session itinerary she had devised and outlined the areas she personally needed to strengthen (transitive verbs) but Eve could only half listen.

_Does she know? Is she doing this on purpose?_

Rowan looked positively serene on Gansey’s bed with her heavy metal music blaring from her headphones. She was beautiful. Not pretty, but beautiful. Like the raw beauty of a geode full of jagged edged crystals.

Gansey was still chattering on about verb conjugations and Eve was robotically following along, but she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering.

Eve was walking over to the bed and climbing into Rowan’s lap. Eve was taking Rowan’s headphones off and running her hand along her close-cropped hair. Her hand came to rest at Rowan’s jaw as she leaned down…

“Eve? Hello? Number 12?” Gansey was looking at her expectantly.

“Sorry – I zoned out there for a minute. What?”

Now Eve was on the bed and Rowan was climbing on top of her, straddling her waist. Rowan reached one muscular arm up and caught Eve’s hands, pining them above her head. Rowan’s mouth moved toward Eve’s neck as her other hand began toying with the hem of Eve’s shirt…

Eve squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

“Are you ok?”

Eve’s eyes opened to a concerned Gansey, her glasses sitting lopsided on the bridge of her nose. Eve smiled at her. “Yeah—just can’t concentrate. Must have breathed in too many fumes or something.”

Behind Gansey, Rowan took a long, cat-like stretch, extending her arms above her head and exposing her midriff.

Good _God._

Eve felt like she was crossing a boundary here. Admiring was one thing, but this? This was getting out of hand. She thought she had learned by now how painful window-shopping was—you can look but you can never touch. Rowan was a friend, but Eve couldn’t allow herself to believe that she had any chance of being something more.

Not even as Rowan opened her eyes, caught Eve staring, and smiled sheepishly as she looked away.


End file.
